


A Rebellious Soul

by MrsSarabiHolmes



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25737757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsSarabiHolmes/pseuds/MrsSarabiHolmes
Summary: Batman made a mistake: he put Riddler in danger. As he saves him, they grow closer emotionally. But little does Batman know Edward's conflicted feelings about him. They'll play the riddle game once the villain's free again. But this time, Batman will have to figure out the answer to the greatest riddle of all before the whole city falls under the Riddler's hands: Love.
Relationships: Batman/Riddler, Edward Nygma/Bruce Wayne, Riddler/Batman, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 39
Kudos: 68





	1. Life or Death

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this angsty, hurt/comfort ship fic! The Riddler is in my top three villains and, surprisingly enough, it's my first time writing him. I'm actually content with the result. Expect feels, riddles and schemes, twists and turns, and a semi-happy ending. ;)
> 
> But for now, here's the first chapter!
> 
> Please leave a comment, a kudo or else-I thrive on them! (Pssst, it makes me write the chapters faster. ;))

“S-soon… you’ll b-bow down to my genius…”

He was sprawled on the floor, his head leaning against the dirty brick wall of his lair, gravely wounded. The Riddler’s smiling lips twitched and he sighed before falling unconscious. Batman observed the limp body before him, blood spattered all over it with bruises staining the visible skin. He exhaled through his nose and lowered his head, scolding himself silently. While the Riddler was a dangerous and formidably intellectual foe, this didn’t require deadly tactics like he’d just beaten him with.

Batman’d made a mistake.

He racked his brain, going through several different options at once. Images of the hospital, of the police station, of the Batcave, and of Arkham Asylum swapped in his mind at a frightening speed. Batman snarled, hating the only solution this critical situation called for. He closed his eyes for a second, taking in all the gravity of his decision, then opened them again and bent over. Batman grabbed Edward, slowly bleeding out to death, and carefully, even kindly, took him to the Batmobile.

He ensured Edward wasn’t positioned in such a way as to endanger him or worsen his wounds. Then, Batman reached for the Batmobile’s inside belts and looped it around his enemy, tugging on it until satisfied with the strength and safety it offered. There was no need to drug him—the villain was out cold.

And time was running out.

Batman straightened and squared his shoulders, weighing the danger of his next move. Despite the high risks, he couldn’t let someone die. If the Riddler perished because of wounds _Batman_ inflicted on him, that’d make the vigilante a killer. No, he _wouldn’t_ become one of them. He’d save Edward despite the cost, true to his principles.

So, Batman ran and slid into his seat. He closed the doors with the press of a button, glanced at Riddler one last time, and made the tyres squeal as he sped towards the Batcave.

* * *

Edward fluttered his eyelids, dizziness assaulting his brilliant mind, addling/befuddling his thoughts. His thoughts weren’t sharp, in fact, they were sluggish, as if he was sprinting through quicksand. And failing horribly, at that. Finally! His eyes were opened. His breathing was hard, laborious, and his body hurt allover. As if he’d been broken into smithereens.

Wait! Was this a—

Edward gasped, his mouth so dry it hurt to open it, the skin of his lips tearing in several places. Bats were flying above him, the flapping wing sounds echoing ominously around the cave. Oh, because that’s where he was… In the Batcave! Something nagged at his addled mind, something strange… Something that was out of place.

_I’m out of place._

The Batmobile was meters away on a platform! And, what about that big, enticing computer straight in front of him? Edward smirked and tried to push himself upright, but he let out a yelp of pain. As fast as he could, he looked down and realized his torso and legs were bandaged. His eyes were opened wider yet his cognitive functions weren’t all… ready. He couldn’t quite think in words, more in feelings and images. It was annoying, to be reduced to _normalcy_. He groaned, a wet, long sound that disgusted him, and tried to move his hands, but they wouldn’t budge.

_Just as expected._

Edward closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose, his chest hurting. Batman had chained him. It was an average move. His memories were all fuzzy—he was shifting through the bits and pieces he had to find out what happened.

But nothing substantial was available.

“You drugged me,” he simply said to the coming footsteps.

“Astute but simple reflection,” Batman replied.

Edward snorted, then shook his head slightly. “Am I the first one you bring here?”

Batman stared at him intently, and Edward tried his best to uphold his gaze, but he had to lower his head due to the pain. Then, the Bat walked away, no word uttered.

“So I am…” Edward whispered, a weak, content smile hanging on his lips.

But something else awoke in him. It spurred forward from the tip of his toes, radiating in his chest to his slowed mind. _Affection_. Being the first one Batman brought to the… Batcave?… made him proud. _Special_ and _worthy_. And maybe, just maybe, that meant he wasn’t the only one with secret feelings? Now _that_ was interesting.

Yet, as much frowning and thinking he did, Edward couldn’t piece the events together. What led to this?

  
Why was he so _damn_ hurt?

Then, it clicked.

“If you’d left me to die, you’d have betrayed your rules. _You_ hurt _me_ …”

And, it was true. Deep down, too. All the excitement building up in the Riddler crumbled down like a badly constructed riddle. Batman didn’t really care about him, did he? It was only about his principles… Stupid morality.

Giving him false hopes like that.

But oh, how Edward was used to false hope. He’d lived his childhood being beaten by his parents and peers, hoping to escape them, then he hoped for a better future through studies, and now he was hoping for requited _affection_ … On a scale of how dumb he could be, this one surprised him. He’d keep it to himself, of course. He wasn’t _that_ desperate.

Edward moved slightly, his bottom aching from the makeshift chair he was chained to. His gaze darkened and his temper flared. He wasn’t something to play with and discard like that! He was _the Riddler_ , Batman’s greatest foe!

“Your guilt couldn’t let me die, could it?”

His thoughts were clearing up, even if only a little. But he was holding on tightly, not willing to surrender. _Again_. If he fell, so did Batman! But he had no intentions to die… He’d attracted enough attention to warrant a stay in the Batcave. That was farther than any other criminal had ever gotten in Gotham city, even that perfidious Joker.

_Yet again, I best them all!_

He snarled, disappointment towards his own hope and Batman’s motives gnawing at him. If there was one thing wrong with Riddler, it was he never learnt to let go. And he kept dreaming of Batman, his intellectual equal, the answer to his riddle, and in more ways than one…

_Whoa, that’s getting wild._

“You’re right.”

Edward’s head banged from within, yet he managed a smile at those three, honest words.

“I’m _always_ right, glad you know.”

Dizziness was gaining on him, and it was weird but Batman, now walking towards him in his strong, serious stance, looked like two.

“I saved you—“

“I was dying _because_ of you…”

“—and as soon as you’re better, I’ll take you to—“

As Edward fainted, the last words sounded so distant in that open, underground area. _Arkham Asylum_. Fear gripped his heart as his head lolled and he fell into another deep slumber.


	2. What We Share

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Riddler teases Batman while, surprisingly, being honest with him. He gives him a new riddle to decipher. It's up to Batman to figure it out... as well as how to deal with the Riddler occupying his centre of operations. Time is ticking for both of them. Will Batman understand before he takes Edward back to Arkham Asylum?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH! A HUGE thank you for leaving comments, bookmarking this fic and giving it kudos. It means the world to me! I'll reply to every comment very soon. :) As promised, I wrote this chapter more quickly ;).
> 
> It's a bittersweet chapter and it sets up the rest of the fanfic. I hope you'll enjoy it! :) 
> 
> Please keep showing me and this fic love! Because one, it's awesome, YOU are awesome. AND because it speeds up my writing.
> 
> Ciao ciao, loves!

Edward inhaled loudly through his nose, his chest rising against the bandage with a steady, dull pain. It had been a few days since Batman took him to his Batcave and treated his wounds. Edward couldn’t be sure of the date though, what with barely no visits except for Batman changing the darned bandages and making sure the Riddler hadn’t escaped. He gritted his teeth slightly, a lock of messy red hair falling before his right eye. Never mind. It was quite sexy to know the Bat _cared_ for _him_ , an no one else, mostly not that wretched Catwoman or the insane Joker. It was like something out of a dream. Which was the case, now that he could think of it, the drug-induced fogginess in his mind clearing a little bit.

He smirked, his eyes roaming over the whole of the cave. Rejoicing in the grand sights before him, he somehow found relaxation in the bats’ screeches overhead. It was like he _belonged_. One might laugh at him, but Edward knew better. He was the Riddler, after all. No one could play him better than himself, except for—

  
_Ah, speaking of the devil._

An electronic sliding door, whooshing sound caught his ears, then heavy footsteps echoed. He giggled at the two little Bat-ears he could see from afar. Batman turned the corner, staring at the Batcomputer (at least, that’s what Riddler figured it was called, and he had a hunch he wasn’t wrong.)

_When am I ever wrong?_

Batman’s shoulders drooped slightly as he whirled on his booted feet. He walked straight towards Edward, who kept grinning like a madman. Batman was so impressive, well-thought, mostly always in control, and did you see that gorgeous build? Edward’d have sold his grandma in high school to be built like that…

_No one got this close to him except me._

A drowsy laugh of pride escaped his lips and he shook his head. While he might be chained to a chair and bandaged up, the Riddler was certain he had the upper hand. After all, wasn’t he in a place _no one else ever got to_? Didn’t he get to see the Batman’s setup? His Bat-toys, his Batmobile? And how about that secret elevator which called for a large sum of money? A playboy, maybe? Enough so he could _pay_ for all this? Interesting, interesting, indeed…

Riddler knew he was getting closer. Not only that, but he’d be the one to uncover that Batman. Delicious, intimidating Batman… _No, no, keep your wits about! He’d have bullied me too, if he’d known me when I was young._

But would Batman have, whoever he truly was? Wouldn’t he have seen Edward’s desperation and heard his numerous calls for help instead?

And just as he was sure of his own extraordinary intellect, Edward was sure Batman would have helped him then. A soft smile spread on his lips and he nodded once.

_There._

Because that’s what Batman tried to do, despite his twisted ways: he tried to help those who had gone too far.

Edward’s heart constricted and he shut his eyes hard. _Don’t think, don’t think._ When he opened them again, Batman was standing tall over him. the Riddler chuckled and looked up, tugging uselessly at his chains just for show.

Because Batman loved drama, right? And Edward did, too… He _did_ play tricks and riddles on his pathetic peers.

“Missing me?”

Batman exhaled loudly and crossed his strong, armoured arms over his chest. Edward’s pupils dilated and he smiled like a wolf. He’d been a sheep for too long, time to mess it up.

“You’ll say ‘no’, but I did,” Edward said softly. He was rewarded with Batman’s sudden in-take of breath.

The Riddler nodded at the giant computer two platforms across from them. Then, he moved his head up and around.

“Nice place, Bat. I see where you get your inspiration.”

“You see nothing, Riddler.”

“Oh?”

Edward’s mind got foggy for a few seconds before clearing again. Batman sure used drugs consistently on him, which was a shame for the quality of their conversations… and his observations. _But_ he’d manage. Riddler always did.

“I _see_ everything, much farther than anyone ever _saw_ you. Just like how no one gets you, but _I_ do. And how no one gets me, but _you_ do,” Edward said, staring straight into Batman’s striking blue eyes.

_A playboy… blue eyes…_

Batman was silent for a moment. Then his lips pressed into a thin line.

“You’ll say ‘no’ again, but isn’t it strange and telling how no one has ever been my equal except you?”

“You’re delirious.”

“I’ve never been this honest.” Riddler’s voice was dripping with venom, his eyes focused intently on Batman.

Batman started, then shook his head. He opened his closed fist to show him a bandage roll.

“I came to change your bandages, that’s all.”

“See, that’s funny. Everyone bullied me throughout my whole life… but you, _you_ want to _help_ me. You’re my equal. Someone who wanted justice, too, though through different means. We have the same goal, twist it however you want.”

Batman’s eyebrows arched and he sighed. “Stop talking.”

“Might as well choke me.”

Batman grunted, then he crouched next to Edward, grabbing firmly the end of the bandage on his torso. Edward angled his head slowly, staring at his saviour and tormenter softly, like he meant everything. Like he’d done all this for him. And in a way, hadn’t he? Edward gulped. He’d waited so long to get someone who _understood_ him, who _cared_ no matter how much length separated them, both psychologically and physically… but now, he was as close as anyone ever got.

“Someone who wants to leave his mark on the world and be _clever_ about it. Because with all your gadgets and hideout, you are clever. Though not as much as I, of course.”

Batman groaned and pulled a bit roughly on the bandage. Edward clenched his teeth, jumping slightly on his chair. He let out a nervous laugh, then gave him a lopsided smile.

“As thick as you are sometimes, even as much as a child, you’ll have to understand…”

Batman removed all the bandage strips, then observed the wounds closely, assessing their criticality. Edward didn’t look down, no, instead he closed his eyes, letting the air prickle his bruises and healing gashes. He was vulnerable like this, and while it didn’t sit well with him, he _trusted_ Batman wouldn’t act like those who took advantage of him—like everyone in his past, always for the worst. No, he would keep _helping_ him, _treating_ his injuries like a good guardian. A fallen angel and his guardian angel. How cheesy. How perfect.

“Understand what, Riddler?”

Edward smirked, satisfaction at playing him _just right_ flooding him. But he couldn’t bring himself to look Batman in the eyes this time. So, he looked away to the Batmobile, glorious on its circular mobile stand.

“The greatest riddle of all, Batman,” he whispered, letting the last syllable die out slowly on his tongue.

* * *

Batman frowned, applying and securing the last bandage strip on Edward’s wounded chest. _Because of me…_

He concentrated and forced his thoughts to clear. It would do no good to dwell on his own fault. He had more urgent to deal with, like how to get Riddler out of here and back to Arkham safely? And before he started to figure out his identity…

But his words kept tormenting Batman… or should he think _Bruce_? He’d always known he shared a few qualities and ambitions with the Riddler, but he never thought the villain deemed him his equal, or that he got him.

Because that was what was troubling him. How Edward saw through him and straight to how he wanted to _help_ , not _harm_ them, how he wanted to leave his mark on the world (make it a good, though shadowy one), and be clever about it… Batman always had to think two, three steps ahead and even more every time he met with one of those Arkham patients. Before being ruthless, bloodthirsty criminals, they were patients who needed treatment. Batman shook his head, groaning. He mustn’t soften up at Riddler’s words for the man was probably toying with him. They shared the intelligence, but nothing else. And now he had to find a way to deal with handling his normal operations with the Riddler watching…

Batman had had to diminish his nights out in order to keep an eye on the criminal mastermind. And, honestly, in all the years he’d known him, Batman’s senses resonated, sending him the message that Edward was being honest with him. As crazy as it might sound. But Batman hoped it was the drugs. While he had compassion for Riddler’s hard life, he didn’t think Edward felt any connection to him whatsoever besides an intense desire and motivation to beat him intellectually. Because _that_ was who the Riddler was. Someone who never stopped until he proved how intelligent he was and humiliated everyone else. Batman blamed it on an incapacity to adapt and a life spent being beaten by his parents and peers. A desire for vengeance and an unquenchable rage, too.

_And why would I like it if we shared any connection, anyway? What about the greatest riddle of all? This doesn’t bode well, whatever his game is._

“Sir, I thought your… guest… was long back to Arkham Asylum.”

Batman sucked in a breath and jumped straight up. He opened his mouth to call out his butler’s name but closed it right away. Bad idea in front of Riddler.

“I told you not to come down here,” he growled back.

Alfred nodded curtly, then put down the food plate on Batman’s desk. “I won’t be long, then.”

Batman sighed and turned to look at Edward, as though he feared he was suddenly free. But what he saw made him even more frightened: Riddler’s eyes were cold, calculating, as he gazed at Alfred. Batman could practically see the gears of his outstanding, though petty, intellect turn and turn.

A falling sensation grabbed him, but he stayed upright. Something was afoot, and Batman wasn’t looking forward to it. But a little voice inside his mind, the voice of the small boy who’d lost his parents one fateful night, told him he was actually _right in it_. He pressed his lips together, frowning. He hated being caught by surprise. And keeping Riddler here longer was too dangerous. He had to get him back to Arkham and soon. He closed his right fist in anger at himself, at having been a fool.

Before everything went to hell. Before Riddler found him out, before… he admitted maybe Riddler was right? He looked at Edward, who was now gazing at him with a soft, too-kind smile which made Batman shake on the inside. What if Riddler was right?

Batman had never been great at seeing things that were right in front of him.

Perhaps _the greatest riddle of all_ was no different.

Batman closed both of his fists, and whirled on his heel, his long black cape following his movement. Then, he headed out without a glance at the Riddler, determined not to lose at this new sick riddle of his.


	3. Not the Ordinary Type

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman needs to run a search in the Batcomputer for a new villain. Only, there's still the Riddler captive in the Batcave... It is inconvenient, but why does Batman still appreciate it? Edward decides to take advantage of the situation, but it doesn't turn like he'd want to. Batman is so close, so attractive... and so mean. Why can't the Bat see what's right in front of him? Is Batman really no different than his previous bullies?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> SO MUCH LOVE FROM YOU!!! Oh my God, you made me smile and giggle and... just wow! Keep commenting, subscribing and leaving kudos for rapidly oncoming chapters! All the compliments threw me off my feet (in an awesome way). 
> 
> I really enjoy writing these two! :) Hope you'll like this chapter as well. It's angstier and more sad than the previous ones. Next stop: out of the Batcave!
> 
> Fun times ahead. ;)

Batman walked out of the elevator into the Batcave for the second time today. When he took a turn on the platforms, he looked over at Riddler, who’d just put down his plate and was now standing, watching him from the distance. Batman’d loosened the chains a bit these last few days in the hopes that this would help his _guest_ , as Alfred put it, recover more quickly and efficiently. After all, a strong physique was healthy. Not that Edward Nygma had a good physique… but he did have the mind. A brilliant, though twisted one at that.

Bruce gazed long enough at Riddler, thinking about how improbable and inconvenient having him here was. But also, a tiny voice in him wondered how bad Edward had had it to become such a villain… He’d clearly not been loved enough. From his file, Bruce knew he’d been beaten and bullied. But what else? The only thing Edward seemed to hang onto was his extraordinary intellect. Like it gave him a purpose when no one else seemed to appreciate him. Maybe it was his way to reach out, to connect to others? By having them fear and admire him.

Batman shook his head. Now was the time for business, not letting his mind wander into unnecessary territory. He made his way to the Batcomputer and sat down in his chair, turning it on with voice and fingerprint recognition.

“Ha! That’s a clever way. I was wondering when you’d start your Batbusiness again… Don’t mind me,” Riddler said with a flick of his wrist and a smile on his lips.

Bruce closed his eyes, annoyed at his presence. But still, he was conflicted… It did feel good to have someone else in here. He had Barbara and Jason, of course, but he’d rarely met someone who was… his intellectual equal. They were smart, but they didn’t always _understand_. Somehow, Batman was certain Riddler always figured things out. And that scared him, because now they were so close in proximity. He was risking so much to save the life of a criminal mastermind. Like Joker would say, was he going batshit crazy, too?

He sighed and started browsing the multiple files on his computer. There was a new villain in Gotham, one that went by the nickname “The Owl”, an Batman was intent on finding him before he blew up another building. Riddler in the Batcave or not. Batman’d avoided coming down here for too long, putting too many people’s lives in danger.

The computer wheezed as he opened the folder he was looking for.

“No information found on The Owl.”

Bruce gritted his teeth at the loud, automated voice giving crucial information to whoever was in proximity. Almost unconsciously, he glanced at the Riddler. The man lifted his head and stared straight at him. He opened his mouth, shifting his weight on his left hip dramatically, his index finger on his lower lip.

“Let me think… The Owl… Yes, his name’s James Thorn. Tall, slender, black hair… A mercenary,” the Riddler said, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

Bruce started, opening wide eyes. He had an inkling the Riddler was telling the truth. But why? A falling sensation gripped his guts as he suspected something way worse. Some wicked game… or riddle.

“Why are you doing this, Riddler?”

Bruce clenched his gloved right hand and stood up. He carefully put this valuable information into a file cabinet in his mind to which he’d come back later. He started to make his way to his guest with an intimidating stance. Whatever the Riddler was playing at, it was time to spit it out.

“Ooooh, let’s say it’s a clue,” the Riddler cooed, grinning. Still, there was that tinkle in his eyes. “You need so many of them.”

* * *

“You can’t say I never give you anything, Batman,” Edward tease, a cheeky smile on his face.

There he was, standing tall, almost ominously, near Edward. Both glorious and frightening… exciting, even! He was compelled to try and test his limits, get closer to the Bat. And so, Edward put a foot in front of the other and started walking, tugging on his chains lightly. At some point, he was overcome by dizziness and a certain nausea, which made him stagger. As he fell forward, strong, firm hands caught him by the chest. A wave of pleasure and satisfaction cascaded over him. But it was quickly followed by internal scolding and shame. He shouldn’t rely on the Bat! No, he was _better_ than him.

_But still… he cares, somehow. He's thick sometimes, but he’s... special._

Edward’s cheeks flushed but he dared lift his head and flash a teasing grin at Batman. His own hands were slowly caressing the man’s forearms, making his way down his chest, to his belt…

“Oh, such a _gentleman_ ,” Edward teased, his eyes shining both with respect and lust. Not physical, mind you, _intellectual_. He felt like he _connected_ with the man. Somewhere behind that Batmask was someone who understood him. Who made him feel safe, all right, thrilled.

Batman groaned and tightened his grip on Edward. With a swift movement, Edward detached a batarang and brought it close to his face. As soon as he did so, Batman’s hand left his shoulder and gripped his wrist. Edward turned it around ever so slightly, as allowed by the grip, and observed it with excitement and deep interest. Curiosity, too. His mind, less foggy now thanks to a lesser dose of drugs, reeled with the possibilities of the composing.

“Ouuuh, love it. What a perfect, sharp shape…” Edward teased.

_Just like you._

He slowly turned to gaze into Bat’s magnificent blue eyes, and smirked. Mischief was written all over his face, yet he made to throw the batarang and laughed. Batman grounded his stance, obviously preparing for a non-existent attack. _So stupid when he wants to._

“Oh, you know I’m not a violent man,” Edward quipped, his eyes darkening with the suspicion.

Anger roiled in him, sudden but threatening. Batman let him go only to rapidly grab him by the collar, closing the small distance between them.

“You hire henchmen to do your dirty work instead,” Batman spat.

The disgust on his features hurt Edward, making him feel despised, unloved… unneeded. Ashamed. _What’s new?_ Edward pouted exaggeratedly and gave a nod.

“Indirectly, then.”

Silence filled the room, but the tension crackled between them. Edward knew the other just meant to punch some sense into him. Like all before him… and for that, in that moment, Edward _hated_ him. He was just someone with bat-toys and an above-average intelligence! He didn’t scheme impressive plans, he didn’t make up great riddles. He just wasn’t so important!

Was he?

Edward’s forced a smirk on his lips, which his darkened eyes couldn’t convey properly.

“And what would I gain anyway? We’re on your territory, obviously. When you’re taking _such_ good care of me,” he said bitterly, an undying twinkle in his eyes.

Batman grunted and took the batarang back, dropping him back on his feet. Then, the unwavering vigilante stared deep into his eyes, almost as if he wanted to scare him. Or make a point.

_But who are you?_

“You seem well enough. Time to get you back to Arkham, Riddler.”

Edward’s face fell, his hope thinning as his anger reached new heights. But the worst part was the pain… how it echoed in him, beating like a second heart to the broken rhythm of the first one. His battered, mocked, unappreciated heart.

“Edward… My name is Edward,” he whispered, looking away.


	4. Take a Hint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman is taking Riddler back to Arkham. But Edward's emotions are in turmoil as he thinks over their complicated relationship, his unrequited love, and his own traumatic past. He gives hints and clues to Batman, but he's planning to up the game. How about a deadly game for a change? Take a hint, Batman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves!
> 
> THANKKKKKK YOUUUU for the lovely comments! They make me smile, grin, laugh, and just make my whole days! Keep them coming! And thanks for the kudos, the subscriptions, and all.
> 
> Here's Edward's chapter. Next up will be Batman/Bruce's ;). I was supposed to include both of them, but this one seemed to stand much on its own. And why not give Edward the spotlight from time to time? Ah, I knew you'd agree! 
> 
> Also, I want you to know while this is my first Riddler/Batman, it sure won't be the last. So subscribe to my username if you want to be alerted of subsequent RiddleBat fanfics!
> 
> On this, I really hope you enjoy this chapter! Poor sweet Edward.
> 
> Don't forget to leave comments if you want the chapters faster. ^.^
> 
> Enjoy, loves!

Edward sat in the passenger’s seat of the Batmobile, staring straight ahead, his mouth set in a thin line. His hands were chained, but his emotions were in turmoil. How did Batman dare take him back to Arkham?

  
As they sped towards the asylum, none uttered a single word for a long period. He’d enjoyed the Bat’s care of him these last weeks, and though he was pretty healed, his chest still hurt. Or was it his heart? Both. His heart beat hard against his ribcage, protesting against all this pain. Anger was swelling in him, making his hands clenched and his eye twitch. He _hated_ Arkham. It was where dumbasses and madmen went. Not a man of his genius! Plus, he always felt like a target in there… there was someone always waiting to pounce on him, but he never knew who. There was danger at every corner there, and the staff was barely better. He was like a sheep in a gang of wolves. Despite all the years, he still felt like little bullied Edward, mocked, pushed around, preyed on.

  
And this irritated him to no end.

Edward dug his nails in his palm and he clenched his jaw. Stupid Bat, not seeing what’s right in front of him. Not seeing _him_! All these years spent challenging him, trying to open his eyes, his idiotic shut eyes… No, none ever saw Edward for who he was. Did they even care?

No, no they didn’t. But the Bat had been so caring to him… Edward just wished it wasn’t only out of a sense of justice and guilt, but because he also saw a harmed, vulnerable, loving human being. Edward wasn’t particularly fragile, but he liked the attention. But most of all, he liked Batman. Or should he say—

“I thought that after all we shared, you’d have the decency, or the _heart_ even, to take me home, not to that wretched asylum,” Edward said, his voice laced with resentment.

He turned his head only to find Batman’s blue eyes peering into his green ones. Edward’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t say anything.

“You have no home.”

Leaving clues here and there was so easy, an entertaining game even, but the other rarely picked up on them. What did Edward expect—for Batman to suddenly be _as_ intelligent _as_ he? Impossible. Close, but never as much.

“Thanks for the reminder, Dark Knight. But maybe you could give me one.”

“Stop joking.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Edward retorted gravely, fixing his intense glare on Batman.

They stared at each other for what felt like minutes, but it was probably long seconds. Then, Batman turned his head back to the road before him, obviously shutting Edward out. Edward sighed, then leaned against the Batmobile’s inner doorside, relaxing a bit. He let his slim shoulders droop as he leant his ginger head rest against the tinted glass.

The Batmobile. He was in the Batmobile, on a ride with Batman. The wheels ran so smoothly on the asphalt and made very little noise… So comfortable, so peaceful.

“I just want you to give me your answer.”

Batman glanced at him, his eyes narrowed, but kept silent.

“Riddler, I—“

“EDWARD! My name is Edward! You can be such a jerk sometimes.”

Batman’s eyebrows shot out of sight in his cowl. Edward gritted his teeth and made a point on looking outside the sleek glass. He couldn’t stop shaking his head, repeated motions. Safe motions. Maybe Batman wasn’t better than his bullies. After all, he did push Edward around, commanded him, humiliated him… What good did he have in him, anyways?

_But he treated my wounds…_

Edward clucked his tongue and closed his eyes, annoyed at himself. _Wounds the Bat inflicted! He nearly killed me!_

Edward’s thoughts took a dark turn for the rest of the ride, going from bad to worse. Perhaps the Dark Knight should have left him to die… his torment would be over. His enemies would rejoice. Nah, scratch that. Edward deserved to live, but the Bat merely acknowledged him despite the help the Riddler gave him. Despite the obvious affection… No, Edward was always rejected. Why should this be any different? Batman was against all Gotham villains, he wouldn’t focus on one. On poor little Edward. As his anger and indignity rose, his heart beat with more force, so much Edward leaned forward in pain, groaning.

“Are you all right?”

“I always am. Unless a certain _someone_ refuses to answer my riddle… either by pure idiocy or meanness… Wait, no, I’m hurt.”

Edward scowled at Batman as he held his middle, accusingly.

“I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

“Nearly kill me?”

_Did he say he was sorry? Oh, he did!_

Edward’s hungry eyes roamed over Batman’s suit. Why hadn’t he apologized before? No one apologized to Edward, with his silly little riddles and word plays. No one ever cared.

_But Batman does…_

Suddenly, Edward’s heart slowed to a suitable pace, a warm sensation overwhelming him. Yes, Batman wasn’t perfect, but he tried… Unlike other fools.

Because he was a fool, all right. Most of the time, at least. But he was Edward’s fool.

_Or he’ll be. If he gives me the answer._

“Yes.”

Edward’s eyes flung opened and he blinked, stuck in his own thoughts. He chuckled, realizing Batman was answering his previous question, not his thoughts. Batman was a lot of things, but he wasn’t superhuman. And Edward didn’t want him to be. He just wanted him to realize. He wanted _him_.

They stayed silent for the rest of the ride, sometimes stealing glances at each other. Edward’s emotions boiled and turned and threatened to spill over. But he had to keep his head cool. He had to plan the next riddles carefully. It shouldn’t take him too much time what with his brains, but Edward had to ensure they would be challenging, worth playing… worth dying for.

_Oh, what a game it’ll be! Just to make you see what a pair we are._

Batman stopped the Batmobile in front of Arkham, then stepped out. Edward sighed, anxiety mounting in him. His breathing shallow and he started sweating. _Not Arkham, not Arkham, not with them. I’m not like them! I’M BETTER! I’M THE RIDDLER!_

The door swung open and he gasped. Batman grabbed him by the arms and pulled him out, more gentle than usual. Probably not wanting to worsen his healing wounds.

“Oh, what a gentleman. So considerate,” Edward mocked as he was helped out of the Batmobile.

Batman snarled and looked away. _Perfect._ Riddler leaned in to his ears, and noted Batman stiffening at their proximity. Edward’s voice dripped with taunt and unabashed lust for his equal.

“But so clueless.”


	5. A Disconcerting Loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Riddler is out of the Batcave and back at Arkham, why does Batman feel so strange giving him up? Batman doesn't feel for criminals, but this time it's like some part of him will be missing... he'll be alone again, won't he? But the Riddler is intent on playing a game with him, like he planned they'll meet again soon. And that doesn't sit well with Batman... so why does it thrill him too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Sorry for taking so long to update the fic. There were close deaths in my family, and I had other events going on... Nevertheless, I'm back! And so are Batman and Edward ^.^. This is from Batman's POV. They're so fun to write about... so emotional and conflicted. Haha!
> 
> Things are heating up for the Batman in this one, he's growing upset and feelings are slowly making their way. Anyhow, stay tuned for the rest of the fic and more chapters. Things will start to go down and into big schemes and puzzles. Yay!
> 
> The fic will also get updated more regularly now, as it used to be.
> 
> Thank you a LOT for sticking around and showing this fic so much love. Please keep giving it kudos, commenting, and bookmarking it, it makes me happy and eager to write the next chapters!
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this inside look at Batman's psyche and feelings! Things are changing... Muahahaha.
> 
> Love,  
> MrsSarabiHolmes

Batman tightened his grip on the Riddler's arms. _So clueless_ , the madman’d called him. Knowing the other’s genius mind and propensity at elaborate schemes and puzzles, his words lit an alarm in the Dark Knight. This meant nothing good, yet at the basis of his sternum burnt a bright but terribly annoying sensation of expectancy and... thrill. Batman wasn't at ease with this realization, but he kept his stern and distant façade on. They’d arrived at Arkham Asylum, and he now had to give Riddler up.

And that was _exactly_ his problem.

Batman nodded at the guards and let them approach. In less than a minute he’d be free of his criminal charge. In less than a minute, he would still have no one of his intellectual caliber. And that was both infuriating and pathetic. Batman wasn't alone; He had Alfred, Selena, and his protégés. But none of them equalled his intelligence. But who mourned the loss of a criminal mastermind? No, he wasn’t… He was relinquishing companionship for safety. But then again, this wasn't right. Riddler was resourceful, persistent and well, obsessed with beating him. These walls wouldn't hold him in for long. Something was brewing. This unnerved Batman, who kept flexing his hands. Then the Riddler's eyes followed his movement and smirked, and Batman stopped. Best not to give him hints.

But hints of what? The accurate taste of truth put his throat on fire, but he stayed stoical. After weeks of treating Riddler's wounds, nursing him back to health as he bore the guilt of nearly killing him—why had he allowed himself to go that far?—, it was time to return him to the establishment for a case such as his. They’d exchanged a few words. The Riddler had even dared to help in an investigation, giving Batman precious data on a criminal. But that also meant the Riddler had been privy to his methods, closer to his secrets than most. Yes, it was high time Riddler got back into Arkham for treatment. The truth? Batman feared he would miss the Riddler's presence beside him.

And that was worse than Scarecrow’s fear toxin or Poison Ivy’s debilitating kiss.

Because this was something Batman wasn't prepared for.

The guards each grabbed the Riddler by arm and pulled him away from Batman. The Dark Knight blinked away his daze, guilt slithering up his guts. He wouldn't be weak again, letting down his guard. He would keep his wits about.

“He’s been hurt and still needs treatment,” Batman informed the guards, his voice grave.

The Riddler smiled and leaned closer to the female guard, a serious Latina who stayed very still.

“What he’s not telling is how he nearly killed me, but I guess that’s for another time.”

The Latina’s eyes widened. “You nearly killed him? But that’s—“

“I made sure he survived. Now you should make sure he doesn’t escape again,” Batman cut her short, irritated.

But there was something else eating away at his emotions… _Shame_. It was burrowing itself in his soul like a worm in a rotting apple. He had jeopardized the Riddler’s life, and that was way out of his duties, of his moral code.

The Latina gulped and nodded.

The other guard glared at the Latina and tightened his grip on the Riddler’s arm.

“Ouch, you’re hurting me!” Riddler exclaimed, his face distorted in outrage.

“Shush, Princess Red-ler,” he retorted with a smirk.

Batman pressed his lips into a thin line. He didn’t approve of bullying, but then so didn’t he of murder. The Riddler frowned, a sadness veiling his eyes.

“My name’s Edward…”

As though looking for help or reassurance of some kind, the Riddler turned a pleading gaze to Batman. Batman stared at him coldly, and after a moment, the Riddler clucked his tongue and gazed at the ground.

Batman had no time to deal with emotional antics of a criminal. What he had to do was get back to work now that the Riddler was back at Arkham. For a while…

“Thank you, Batman. We’ll take good care of Miss Princess here,” the guard said with a smile and a wink.

The Latina pursed her lips and frowned, before they turned around with the Riddler.

His resolve renewed, Batman waited for the guards to cross the entrance. But just as they reach the threshold, The Riddler twisted his head to the side and the side and smiled. His red hair fell over his eye, fixed upon Batman, so all he could see was that oddly proud smile. This sent shivers up Batman’s body, and he stiffened. The Riddler was narcissistic and egomaniacal, yet this alerted Batman to something coded…

“Very soon, Batman.”

Batman snarled and whirled on his booted heels. Anger was flaming in him. But also a strange sense of urgency… and loss. It gnawed at his nerves and heart, as though he’d be all alone again. But that wasn’t true… on a general level, at least.

Once out again, how many lives with Riddler take? Somehow, his words sounded imbued with truth and a certain finality. As though it couldn't be any other way. Batman wished Arkham would keep him locked in. But that was only that: a wish. Reality was much harder. And it seemed to toy with Batman's own conflicting feelings.

He wasn’t in control no matter how hard he tried to keep his appearance up; he was getting vulnerable and it wasn't in his plan. A nagging certainty insisted the Riddler was already onto something.

It was time Batman gathered his wits and thought the possibilities through. He had to prepare for the worst and counter him because the Riddler was quite capable of it.

“I don't doubt it,” Batman replied in a growl.

Stomping his way to the Batmobile, an intense cold rushed down his body. And there it was, the terrible but subtle certainty that had plagued him since he’d taken the Riddler out of the Batcave.

Something raw, and powerful. He should have thought of it before. But then didn't Riddler love to play games and _riddles_ on him? _Exactly_. It settled on him like a dark curtain, closing the first act of their deadly and intelligent game.

_You're just getting started, aren't you, Riddler?_


	6. When the Puzzle Pieces Align

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward is stuck in Arkham with less than worthy other inmates. With time on his hand, he reflects upon what brought him here and how and why he came so close to death... On these thoughts, Edward is torn between his conflicted feelings for Batman. Is he a bully or a knight? When Edward finally makes a decision, he starts devising a plan to get out of Arkham and make Batman realize he's the only one who truly understands him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello y'all!
> 
> I promised you a chapter very soon, so here it is, loves! :) Please excuse the lame chapter summary, I just got a tooth extracted today so I don't feel up par, but I tried. Haha. But the chapter's better, trust me ;).
> 
> Please, as always, do leave kudos or comments and bookmark it to show your love! It makes me write more and faster!
> 
> Your love for this fanfic makes my heart expand and all warm! 
> 
> Much love, dears!
> 
> \- MrsSarabiHolmes

Edward—just like his name tag said, not _Riddler_ — sat across Jonathan Crane at a table in the cafeteria. They were the closest to the exit—not the one to the outdoors, mind you, but the one leading to the cells. So, Edward thought you could really call it “the closest to the inner path”. He rolled his eyes and looked down at the other inmates. What was he becoming, reduced to thinking such drab things, surrounded by low-class criminals who figured the way to beating Batman was head-on? That it didn’t require _finesse_ and _wits_ , which Edward had plenty of? No, this place was dull, and the inmates even worse… Crane was tolerable, though. Instead of meeting Batman head-on, he’d perfected a fear toxin. An ingenious solution, and he preyed upon fear. That was… commendable.

He took a bite out of his ugly-looking and thick soup and munched, grimacing as his back ached and his guts sent needles of pain up his body. The worst was his jaw, which had received countless punches…

Crane snickered, staring him straight in the eye. Edward stopped munching and raised a quizzical eyebrow. No word was needed. It was clear something in Edward was making him laugh.

_I’m the butt of the joke, ain’t I?_

“So you were nearly killed by the Batman… How pitiful.”

Scratch that. Crane was low-shit class like all the rest. Edward’s lips twitched, turning into a snarl.

“As though it never happened to you…” he retorted, his voice taking on a grave tone.

A flame of satisfaction burned lightly in Edward’s chest as Crane opened his mouth in shock, then shut it hard and stared down at his meal like a poor, lost soul.

Edward smirked.

_One point for Riddler! But when don’t I get all the points, anyway?_

Now that their somewhat amiable conversation had been cut short, Edward took his time looking around the less-than-beautiful room. The wall colour was fading, and the plaster in the top corners was unfurling and bore scorched traces as Harley had thrown makeshift bombs to create a distraction. She had no doubt been instructed by the Joker to do as such, who’d just stood with his back to the far wall, arms crossed, and a wicked grin on his singular face. The Joker… Batman’s archenemies, or so they thought. Edward’s blood boiled and his stomach and teeth clenched at the thought of this lunatic. He had no real skills except silly jokes (and who really liked those, anyway?) and a lesser mind. Still, he was almost all Batman saw… But this was a time for change, and he’d make sure he, Edward, was the one to bring it about. He’d flip the coin, or so to speak. Edward’s mind drifted into reminiscing about how he _needed_ Batman to acknowledge him, how _close_ he’d been to proving his worth to him, impressing him. And just how dangerous it had been what with Batman almost violating his own moral code…

He’d struck a chord with the Batman, Edward was sure of it. He’d gotten to him, one way or another. Edward hoped that while he was at Arkham, the Batman was shaken, obsessing over the Riddler just as he was over the Dark Knight. Whoever he was. Edward’s lip twitched upward. He’d overridden the Batmobile’s systems—there were a few layers of protection—, then when he’d nearly breached Batman’s main computer—he had to have a main computer hiding all his date, hadn’t he?—, the connection was lost as Batman punched him. The Dark Knight had a tendency to arrive at the least convenient times…

So, just as Edward burned with anticipation at knowing who Batman was, at soon savouring the identity of his greatest and most admirable foe, he was cut short and his success aborted. The punch sent him off his chair in his apartment, then batarangs flew and stuck him to the wall. Then came the pouring of punches and kicks that never seemed to stop. It all was like a maelstrom of nightmares, but it bore the mask he most esteemed in the whole word. This lit a turmoil in Edward, who screamed and vowed he’d uncover Batman soon. The punches just rained down harder. Because he was right. His equal, his enemy, his secret love had almost snapped. He’d gone for too long, too hard, too _dangerously_ … The man barely stopped in time, letting him alive, but broken-hearted and determined. Those two things rarely went together, but oh did they in Edward’s chest. Evidently, he was onto something. Otherwise, the Dark Knight, Gotham’s saviour, wouldn’t have lashed out at him in a deadly manner… He wouldn’t have turned into one of Edward’s many bullies.

And he wouldn’t have confirmed what Edward already suspected. Edward pouted and trailed his gaze on the pitiful inmates. Just look at them, the Mad Hatter intent on finding his one true Alice (who didn’t even _exist_ , thank you very much), and Ivy, caressing a plant she had grown from the tiny window next to their cafeteria. All _freaks_ and morons. But Edward was better. He was _clever_. And all he had lived and all he felt had led him to Batman. However, their last encounter and his close brush with death had left him bittersweet. How could he care and seek out Batman’s company and intellect when the man acted both as his tormentor and only friend? As little as Edward knew what having friends was like, though he doubted friends dreamed of being held in the other’s arms and cared for… Edward sighed and turned his gaze to the right. Does the man behind the bat mask fear so much to be understood? Edward vowed to show him how nice it was.

He just needed to verify what his mind had already confirmed in his private database, back at his lair. The identity of his blight and love. Of the Dark Knight.

Of his Batman.

Edward bunched his lips together, lost in deep, practical thought. If he were to make Batman understand he wasn’t _against_ him—well, he technically was, but he wanted so much more than what they had, that he could even help him— that Edward was the only one who truly saw and understood him, he would need to do so in the only way they knew how to communicate: through riddles and puzzles. He nodded slowly, appreciating his bubbling ideas, like neurones forming links, connecting each other. Oh, there were already good ideas in his genius brain, all ready for him to plan and put into action for Batman to experience, to _feel_ …

But first, Edward had to get out of here.

He set his gaze on the Latina guard a few meters away, standing against the back door with her arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t move, but Edward could swear she staggered or wobbled. It was like she was awkward just standing.

_Perfect._

* * *

The door clanged closed behind him, but Edward didn’t wait for her footsteps to recede. He whirled around and grinned. This was it, it was his moment. He could hear other inmates growling and yelling in the adjacent cells—he was the last to be locked in—, and made sure to speak loud enough to intimidate her. He loved boasting and the common people were easy to manipulate when one spoke louder than the rest. Or so he’d learned from other criminals, like Joker. It wasn’t his favorite technique, but he knew when to use it to his advantage. But the real highlight was the meaning of his words more than the intensity of his speech. Because oh, she was in for a surprise.

“It would be a shame if your son came to harm, Angela…”

The guard stiffened and turned on her heel, her eyes wide searching the cell rows. Edward knew she was aware of whom had spoken, but she was probably looking for other guards. When she found none, she clenched her jaw and stared straight at him.

_There, I’ve got you._

Edward applauded himself in his mind, but kept a light smile on his face. Innocent. He kept standing though his chest hurt, his heart beat while constricting painfully, his knees wanted to buckle and his face burned from the broken nose and cuts. Damned pain, which he didn’t let her see. He had to appear strong. Hell, no one was stronger than the Riddler!

Except Batman.

Not intellectually, no. The Dark Knight, while impressive, was still several steps below him in terms of mental capacity. But he was, indeed, challenging.

“What are you talking about?!” she asked through clenched teeth.

Her hands were balled into now tight white fists. A warm sensation of victory floated up his chest as Edward smiled wickedly at her.

“Don’t play this game, you’ll lose. I’ve got my information from a trusted network,” he explained, omitting that the network was his own. “And you, dear Angela, have a son.”

“What do you want?” she asked, her lower lip quivering and her back straight.

Her eyes widen and she stepped closer to the bars. Edward’d mind kept reeling with all the possibilities this little game offered, but he had one major goal, and he couldn’t let himself get distracted. So leaned his face against the bars and went straight to the point.

“Let’s talk, shall we?” he cooed, a wide confident grin on his wounded face.


	7. I Told You So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been weeks since Batman took Riddler back to Arkham, yet he can't seem to get over his absence. It's like he is missing his presence, their clever game, but that is crazy, right? Bruce has been on edge since then and Alfred, Jason, and Barbara can't stop reminding him. Meanwhile, his sidekicks and protégés bring bad news with them... Or is it an opportunity instead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello!
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH for the comments!!! Keep them coming, I love to read all of you! I'm also going to reply to each one of your comments soon. I just thought you'd prefer a brand new chapter first ;). Correct me if I'm wrong.
> 
> Anyhow, it seems our Dark Knight is caught in something bigger than he anticipated. His conflicted evolution is so fun to write. 
> 
> See you next week with another chapter! 
> 
> Don't forget to comment, leave kudos or bookmark it. Or all three, if it's not already done!
> 
> Enjoy, loves!
> 
> \- MrsSarabiHolmes

Batman waited for the platform to lower the batmobile deep down into a huge cave populated by bats and sometimes a butler and his ward. As the batmobile made its way down into the batcave, he pressed his lips into a fine line. Things were too easy, too calm lately… Despite Riddler’s claim of an ultimate game, an essential riddle, there’d been no sign of him since he’d dropped him at Arkham weeks ago. Batman didn’t mind since this kept Gotham a bit safer without that man’s antics and innocent victims, but it was too odd not to suspect anything. Batman wasn’t at ease, though it seemed Riddler wasn’t lying… on the forefront at least. For his information about the mercenary called The Owl had turned out to be true, thus helping Batman catch the criminal. Help… That was such a strange word to associate with Riddler. Something as foreign to his mouth as a good day was to Gotham.

Batman sighed as the platform came to a stop. He pressed a button and the door swung open. Batman slipped out with agility and took off his cowl. Finally, he wasn’t Batman any longer tonight, no he’d done his part; now he was Bruce. Something that was a small relief for an unknown reason. Was he getting tired of all the fighting? Or was it something else, much more insidious?

He made his way down the walkway leading to the batcomputer in such a hurry his breathing and heartbeat accelerated. His mind wasn’t focused, and he’d tried to put his thoughts in order, which had been an impossible task these last weeks. Something had disrupted him, had disrupted his inner control, but—

Bruce’s eyes locked onto the empty area. His gut twisted ever so slightly. This area used to have a chair and Riddler chained to it. Not that these were pleasant memories in particular, but a feeling he’d thought he’d come to grip with bloomed in him with thorns: loneliness. Not that the Riddler was back in Arkham, where he belonged, Bruce couldn’t deny how there seemed to be something, a presence, missing in the batcave.

_Or in my life, for that matter._

Bruce opened his eyes wide at his spontaneous and pessimistic thought. He grunted and clenched his teeth, making sure to look away from the spot. He didn’t _need_ anyone. Yet he always had the feeling he ran solo, despite his sidekicks and Alfred. And out there, in Gotham, the criminals were all about guns and fists fights, it was all about violence. With Riddler, it was something else. Yes, he created complex schemes that involved innocents. Yes, he was mad. Yes to all that and more, but he was intelligent. A genius, even. He fitted the “evil genius” category so well, but then again was he all bad? Hadn’t he helped with Batman’s investigation? Either he had some good left in him, which could happen but was unlikely, or it was part of a grander plan, his ultimate riddle. And despite everything, it pained Bruce to admit that things weren’t the same since he’d taken Riddler to the batcave. Not only his own pitiful and violent nervousness at being found out had nearly cost the madman’s life, but since he’d been back at Arkham, Bruce was… bored and rather shaken. Not that he’d admit it to anyone. It was a plain fact, that was all. No one achieved such intellectual prowess as himself or the Riddler. He was the only one who could almost match his wits and… It felt good, somehow. _Too_ good. Like they connected.

_And that’s too much already._

Bruce clenched his jaw harder, his teeth grinding painfully, but he didn’t relinquish. He almost slammed his cowl into its case along with the rest of the batsuit. When he turned, he nodded at Alfred who’d made his way down almost silently.

“Sir, would you like to have some lunch? It’s been hours you haven’t—“

“I’m fine, Alfred.”

Stiff as his graphite cowl, Bruce made his way to the batcomputer. He sat down in front of it and started browsing his folders and files searching for something… of a clue! But what should he be looking for? He still had so much to do, villains to thwart, and Joker to catch. Because oh, he was out and about, wreaking havoc on Gotham as always, but Bruce needed to pinpoint his location… Yet, the page he’d opened was that of Riddler.

Edward Nygma… the Riddler.

The man’s picture smirked back at him. He was dressed in his usual question-mark green attire. Maybe there was something in his file, something Bruce had overlooked though he’d read it a thousand times and more… Why would Riddler help him?

_What are you planning, Riddler?_

Bruce growled lowly and turned away from the screen. He laid back in his chair and put an index to his chin, thinking. But mostly, he was boring a hole into the screen with his glower.

“Sir, you have been upset since our… guest... left,” Alfred said with a tentative look at the Riddler’s face.

“Again, I’m fine, Alfred,” Bruce responded, his tone more abrupt than he’d meant to.

They exchanged a knowing look and Bruce relented. He sighed and looked down, lost in endless questions. At the same moment excited voices resonated down the path to the mansion.

  
“I think Miss Gordon and Mr. Todd are here, Sir.”

Bruce nodded and passed a hand over his face. How would he cope with them right now?

“BRUCE! You gotta see this!” Jason’s voice boomed though he was only a few feet away from him now.

Bruce instantly noticed Barbara’s worried, unhappy expression as well as Jason’s usual misplaced excitement. But there was a note in his outstretched hand. What was it? Bruce reached out and grabbed the note, inspecting it.

It only bore a green question mark with five words: “ _The answer to my riddle?_ ”

Bruce’s hands shook slightly as he was jolted into questioning and confusion and… action. So, he was out. Bruce knew he should contain whatever odd sensations he had in order to go after him, to catch him again and again. Perhaps the man was out for revenge? While Riddler could be petty, this was not his style. The answer to his riddle…

_What even is your riddle? What game are you playing?_

“Bruce? Don’t just stand there!” Jason exclaimed, gesturing his disapproval. “You should totally go after him! Beat him up!”

Bruce snapped his head towards Jason. “This is not amusing, Jason. How many times do I have to tell you these are _criminals_ , this is no party. This is _dangerous_.”

“Whoa, calm down, sorry.”

Jason lifted his palms, pouting, and took a step back. He was observing Bruce from head to toe and Bruce knew Alfred was doing the very same from out of the corner of his eye.

“You’ve been weird since Riddler’s been here, y’know…”

Bruce opened his mouth in shock, but no sound came out. His eyes opened wide, and he just stared at Jason, his favorite but reckless protégé. He let out a grunt and turned to Alfred. But the old man simply stared at him with a raised eyebrow and the typical look that meant “I told you so”. Bruce didn’t argue, though his chest was in turmoil. He wouldn’t admit it to them, but within, he knew they were right. The Riddler had triggered something in him, something both disruptive and similar to belonging. His thoughts were in disarray, he was unable to meditate successfully or find his center again—it was like he was overwhelmed, jolted with electricity, anger, and fear. But there was something else, too… something playing with his sharp mind and loneliness.

“Bruce, Riddler’s playing with you…” Barbara said in a soft voice, pointing at the note.

“Hm, hm,” Bruce muttered, making an effort to appear blasé. But in truth, this worried him too. What did Riddler want, truly?

He’d been acting strange for a madman… leaving hints of a game, showing faces he’d never let the Dark Knight see before, like his vulnerability. As though he _wanted_ something out of Bruce… It was right at the border of his mind, yet Bruce couldn’t put his batarang on it. Nevertheless, as he gazed intently at the note with the simple question, a tendril of something akin to a forbidden feeling, provoked only by their intellectual matches, rose in him…

_Excitement._


	8. Only One Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward gets to his lair and verifies his strong doubts about Batman with facts. Getting lost in thought of the man behind the mask and himself, he plays with a Rubik's cube, his favorite toy from childhood, as he thinks over whether Batman will ever understand the solution to his most important riddle...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello!
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH lovelies for commenting, leaving kudos, and subscribing to this fic. You dears give me LIFE!
> 
> Also, I'm sorry I took so long to write this chapter; I was extra busy these last weeks. BUT I kept thinking of you and I tried my best to write this chapter more quickly than my obligations allowed. ^.^ What can I say? I love you!
> 
> Okay, so this chapter's short, but it drops clues about what's to come. Will you decipher them? ;) Plus, I think this chapter's quite feelsy-good, no?
> 
> Again, please do leave comments (it makes me write faster whenever possible and just brightens my whole days!), kudos, and subscribe! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> \- MrsSarabiHolmes

_Free!_

He was finally free!

But it came at a high price. One his pocket half-regretted. Keeping a somewhat trusty network while he was in Arkham was more delicate and costly than one might think. Anyhow, after Edward’s escape, his right-hand had taken him to his new lair. A decrepit and awfully dirty bunker under Gotham’s farthest roads. From there he could survey the whole city, and as he swore, stepping into the gunk of the tunnel, pressing his hand against the grimy walls, he hoped his stupid henchmen had followed his very instructions for his makeshift cyber setup.

He let out a disgust noise as his foot sank deeper into murky water bacterially infected, and quickly pulled it out. He shook it in the air before proceeding into his hiding place. Shivering, he closed his eyes after entering the small three-roomed location. How he hated being reduced to such mundane means—quite below his intellectual quality, indeed. But he’d go through with it if it meant escaping Arkham Asylum and playing with the great Batman… maybe make him understand, if the other had an ounce of grey matter. Hopefully, he’d get to hear a declaration at the end of his great game…

Edward clucked his tongue, sweeping quite rudely the grime and dust off his jacket. At least Batman would be proud of him: he’d left the guard alive, only threatening her son… No harm had been done to them, and for that, Edward thought bitterly that would earn him some respect from the Dark Knight. He scoffed, his eyes sparkling with longing and pride.

His lips curled up, and he let himself drift in thoughts of Batman. He imagined the rigid stance of the man he wished to embrace, his clear blue eyes gleaming with sharp intelligence (not as sharp as Edward’s, of course), and his rumbling voice that shook his very being, twisting his gut with attraction. Yes, they were destined, one way or another, if one dared believe in destiny. Not that he did, it was simply an amusing, though childish concept. But there was something he needed to verify. Something of utmost importance… A strong suspicion. And for that purpose, Edward needed his customized computer.

He set his eyes on the flimsy wooden desk before him and smirked as he caught sight of his Rubik’s cube lying next to the powerhouse computer. As he had ordered. Rubik’s cubes were his favorite toy as a child, so complex yet it had a clever pattern you could understand, and so unique as well. Plus, it was colourful and Edward, though pragmatic and above child’s play, had always rather liked theatricality. He pouted as he came to the conclusion that it might be his only fault. Really. When his gaze fixed upon the huge computer screen, Edward smiled with contentment. It seemed idiots, if selected well, could carry out even complicated demands. Although he’d rather the crucial elements be left to him.

Speaking of which, Edward had a bat to unmask. Oh, he shivered at that assonance. So poetic and meaningful. He should’ve been a poet to convey truths, but he had a duty to clean this town from rats like Joker and elevate the underworld with his incredible IQ. Now, what about that Batman? He smirked and sat down at his desk, booting up the computer. It roared to life, exhibiting the right specs, graphics, and power he’d asked for. He trailed his hands on the keyboard like a caress, then started typing at the speed of light. The light of the screen reflected in his glasses, and though it was slightly annoying, he was used to it. He bit his lower lip as his eyes scanned headlines and useless Web pages. Until he found the right one.

There.

_Bruce Wayne._

The playboy millionaire (was he really, though? Edward doubted it) stood between the mayor and another official, during a prize reception for his philanthropy thanks to Wayne Industries. Bruce Wayne’s strong chiseled chin, his large and muscular torso, and set shoulders that belied of intense discipline and pride all told of a secret story, somewhere lurking beneath the surface. Like the darkness in which a bat flew to feed. But it was his small and striking blue eyes that betrayed him. In their seriousness and narrowing and the single intelligence capable to rival with his gleaming in those eyes, he recognized the eyes he saw in his dreams, in his nightmares, and in the many confrontations between Batman and himself. Edward shivered, goosebumps appearing on his arms. He swallowed with difficulty and laughed nervously, a warmth spreading from his gut to his head. So, he’d been right. Of course he was! Had he even doubted himself? With a smirk, he let his mind drift for a second, imagining those strong arms around him, holding him for dear life. Who knew? Maybe Edward would show him the way.

_The way to me._

Edward let out a long sigh of satisfaction and leaned back in his poor wooden chair. His gaze caught his Rubik’s cube, and he stretched to grab it. As he laid back and played with each multicolour square of sliding parts, he observed how each part was like a clue from one of his riddles, and each face only visible visible while others were hidden. You could switch parts in the wrong order, but either way, you’d always have to turn the cube around to see another face. Then come back and make do with what you remembered, what you’d analyzed. Yet, despite all of these choices and obstacles, there was only one way to make it whole, make it _click_. Edward wondered if Batman (oh, sorry, _Bruce Wayne_ ) would understand how all methods led to one right answer only…

As if on cue with his thoughts, the cube clicked into place, each of the six sides showing a single colour, all parts neatly positioned in rows. All assembled to form a united item—a completed puzzle.

Edward grinned and let his head fall backward, a low laugh escaping his throat.

_Only one solution, Bruce. Don’t you disappoint me._


End file.
